To Feel or Not to Feel
by mrs.salvatore39
Summary: post 3x20, pre 3x21. Damon finds Elena working out her frustration and tries to get her to feel something, anything. LEMON


_a/n: I wanted to get another one shot in before this weeks episode when possibly everything can be set back and all the progress we made in3x19 is lost. However, I have been too busy with work and everything so I've had to flip things around a little to go with 3x20.  
__This idea came to me randomly while I was reading another fanfiction for the Hunger Games. It's definitely one of my new obsessions and I may even dabble a bit in fics for that fandom when this season of Delena is over. For now, enjoy this for the simple little smutty shot it is. _

FEEL

* * *

Elena blew a few strands of hair that had fallen from her ponytail out of her face as she danced around the punching bag in Alaric's empty apartment. Her Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde history teacher/ caregiver had locked himself in the tomb, and as far as she knew- had died last night. There were still a lot of unanswered questions about just what was going on within the Original family, but she couldn't think about that right now. Unfortunately there were more pressing answers she was trying to work out inside herself and she figured that she may as well get a work out while dealing with it all. Her music was loud, blasting through the speakers of Alaric's sound system, which helped Damon sneak in unnoticed. He'd come by to grab Witchy something to track Ric with now that she'd been healed and her possession had ended. He'd never expected to see the very thing he'd been trying to avoid.

He'd purposefully forced himself to drive clear across town and bypass her house in hopes that he wouldn't have to see her. They hadn't spoken much since that night. Since _the _kiss that had changed everything, and yet nothing. Since they'd had their little standoff and she'd once again thrown away the chance to tell him the truth about how she felt. Even his brother could see it, had voiced his opinion on it. Was she really that dense, or just that afraid of what it would be mean to belong to Damon Salvatore that she wouldn't let herself feel? The girl thought to damn much, that was obvious and perhaps he didn't think enough. It was the perfect balance they would need to survive as a couple, but until she gave a little, they would never be able to keep surviving this way.

And now with Ric's…whatever the hell was going on- he hardly thought of it as the right time to be asking her about something trivial like her feelings. For all she knew, her latest father figure had sacrificed himself last night. He honestly wasn't sure what was worse, allowing her to continue thinking that; to believe that Ric was at peace or to tell her the truth that he'd transitioned and was now a powerful, immortal vampire slayer out to destroy almost everyone and everything else she had left. Of course, when the dust cleared she would still have Jeremy and Matt and there would be no Salvatore's to tear her heart in two. Is that what she would want? Is that the lesser of the two evils of choosing between the men that loved her?

As he moved silently around the room, keeping his back to the wall, his eyes were glued to the tight black pants that stretched across her ass. The tank top she wore was cut so that most of her back showed, along with her cream shoulders and the long, tempting lines of her neck. He could remember what it felt like to taste that skin, to have that hard little body pressed between him and cement. Even now, she was no more than five steps from him, less if he moved as a vampire- but she hadn't noticed him yet. She was too lost in her own thoughts, thoughts no doubt that were keeping her even further away from admitting her feelings for him. He had to get her to let go, to feel. To just feel. How could something seemingly so simple, be so hard? In a lame attempt to gain her attention, he cleared his throat.

The music drowned him out though, and he found himself smirking as she paused her movements, resting her forehead against the bag, gripping it tightly with her fingers. Her gloves were getting worn, a sign that she'd been doing this often, maybe too often from the state they were in. Gloves lasted years, not months. It worried him a little, but he pushed the thought back. She needed a new way to work out her aggression, her frustration and he thought he knew just exactly what she needed. Not that she would ever go for it. All of a sudden the music stopped and he saw her glance up slightly toward the sound system, sending a quick glare its way. Now that it was quiet he could hear her heavy breathing, her out of control heart and the light curse under her breath as she pushed away from the bag and stalked over to the speaker. She yanked the Ipod out of the dock and tossed it in her gym bag, along with her gloves.

He realized then, as she bent to pick up her belongings, that he still hadn't made his presence known, but it was too late. She turned around, a slight gasp escaping her lips when she spotted him, leaning against the wall. Her heart skipped a beat just at the simple sight of him, panic and embarrassment flooding her face with a blush. At first, neither of them spoke. It was as if they'd forgotten how to be around each other. It was either fighting, or kissing and she wasn't sure she could handle either at the moment. The battle was on the instant their eyes met, whether they knew it or not. She could feel the heat rising inside her as his blue eyes raked over her body. No doubt she looked like hell, all sweaty and tired. She'd done her best to cover the dark circles under her eyes this morning when she'd got up, but her work out had no doubt erased any trace of makeup she'd put on. Sleep had become a distant thing once again thanks to their little road trip and the events of yet another ruined decade dance.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel his lips on hers, on her neck. Every time she lay down she could picture him next to her, nearly smell his cologne in the air. At least she didn't smell too bad right now. _Thank you Lady Speed Stick. _She thought with an internal smile, not that she would admit that she cared about what Damon thought about her scent.

The stillness of his body made the emotions flashing across his face all the more apparent and she found herself feeling rather like a bug about to be dissected at a third grade science fair. Damon was the only person she knew that really understood her, and yet here he was staring at her as if she was all still a mystery to him. Then again, she was no better. She and Damon had become close, startlingly close as of late, and yet he still confused her, made her ask questions she might never know the answers to. Moments had passed, but in that time hundreds of questions had raced through her mind, and finally she snapped, proving once again that she was the weak one. After all, she'd made the fool out of herself and kissed him that night hadn't she? She'd been the one to confuse the hell out of him and make him believe that she loved him, that she wanted him. And for what? A sick experiment to prove to Stefan that he was wrong? That she loved him, only him. That it would always only be him?

Well it had been a few days now and she hadn't spoken to Stefan about what happened. After they left the gym, once she'd stopped crying he'd taken her home. He'd watched silently as she'd stored all of Alaric's belongings in Jenna's room and then he'd tucked her into bed, kissed her forehead and disappeared with a simple goodnight. He hadn't offered to stay, and she didn't really want him to. No, she wanted Damon- as awful as that was. She'd stayed up for hours, her eyes on the half open window waiting for him to appear, but he never came. Why would he? He'd placed the ball in her court and she'd done little more than stared at it terrified. She didn't have any clearer answers for him than she did herself. "How long have you been here?" she asked, wishing her tone wasn't as rudely clipped as it slipped out.

His shields didn't go up as she'd expected. He simply pushed away from the wall and strode forward a few steps, his palm resting against the bag she'd been beating the shit out of a minute or so ago. "Long enough to know that you need to work some things out."

"I did."

Her answer was simple, but he wasn't buying it. His blue eyes shot right through her and she repressed the shiver that threatened to rack her body. "How are your hands?"

She looked down at them, curious to find that her knuckles were bleeding a little. Probably from the first twenty minutes she'd spent without them. "Fine. Almost healed."

He ignored her short answer and moved to stand in front of her, taking her palms in his. "You need to be more careful."

Elena pulled back sharply at that, glaring at him. The change in her demeanor wasn't sudden, but it did manage to shock him. "Don't tell me what to do."

He let her brush past him, get a step away before he grabbed her arm and drug her body tightly against his. Her duffle fell to the ground, the contents toppled out of it but she didn't look down. Her eyes were locked with his, her chest heaving against him. "What exactly is your problem?"

His demand nearly made her cower, but she forced herself to stand straight and glare. She had to make this his fault, then she could be angry at him and walk away. Her body would stop responding to how close his was and she would keep her walls up. She would not notice how good it felt to be in his arms, how surprisingly gentle his hands had become on her skin now that he was sure she wouldn't run. She would not feel his hot breath on her face or respond to the faint smell of whiskey that always seemed to surround him. She could feel the pull of attraction between them, and hated it. She cursed it, and then she collapsed into a fit of tears, clinging to him tightly and burying her face in the black silk of his shirt. Now she could smell the leather from his jacket, the cologne that had faded since yesterday morning when he'd put it on. It was clear he hadn't been to bed yet. That he'd probably never even gone home. Had he stayed with Alaric until the final moment? She wanted to know, to know that their friend hadn't been alone but she couldn't bring herself to ask.

She couldn't bring herself to think about last night anymore. Her heart, her brain was torn right in two. She was sad, she was in pain at the loss of another parent and yet she was still being tormented by her feelings for the two brothers that wanted nothing more than to make her happy, to comfort her and tell her that everything was going to be alright. Even now, he was holding her just as Stefan had last night, murmuring things that his brother had, doing his best to calm her down. They were similar, and yet so different at the same time. Stefan had been warm, he'd been soft, he'd been safe. Damon wasn't like that, had never been like that. Would probably never be like that. Could she live without that? Could she live with the hard, cool, composure? The protective, elder brother that loved her with a passionate fury that both excited and terrified her.

Could he learn to be soft? Could he learn to be gentle, or was she simply not giving him enough credit. She felt him pull away and clung to him tighter, her sobs now becoming soft sighs as the anger and pain she'd built up inside her slowly began to ease into a dull ache. Stefan had left her alone last night, and it appeared that perhaps Damon was about to do the same thing. Suddenly she was afraid to be alone all over again, more-so; she was afraid to be without Damon. He was so big, so strong. Even holding her at a slight distance he was like a big brick wall protecting her. Safe, something she hadn't felt in a while or ever thought she would feel again. For so long it had been fear, and careful planning. Part of the reason she hadn't been able to make a real decision about her heart was because there was always something more pressing to deal with. And now with Alaric….

She shook her head and stepped back, wiping her tears away with both hands. Damon's arms hung in the air, his fingers outstretched towards her waist, but unable to close the distance between them. "I'm sorry." She mumbled, embarrassed that she'd lost it in front of him like that.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." His tone was a soft whisper, shocking her and she looked up, her hair curtaining in front of her face.

When he brushed it back, revealing her slightly red eyes, she closed them and reveled in the feel of his skin against hers. With the outside world shut out she could picture their kiss, remember how incredible it had all felt, but then she pulled away again and he didn't cover the sigh of disappointment as she knelt to stuff her bag full again. "So what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to be casual.

He evaded the question and crouched down next to her, slipping her journal back into the bag. What secrets did she keep in there? He would kill to find out, and found it surprising that he hadn't snuck into her room and poured over every single page. "It's okay to freak out sometimes you know."

She stood, her head up high. "I don't get that luxury." Her words weren't necessarily meant to be an insult, but he thought of all the times his freak outs had hurt her. "Jeremy is home now, and he needs me to be strong. There is no one else to take care of us, no one Damon. Don't you understand that?"

"So you're just going to stop feeling? You're just going to bottle up all the pain and the anger?"

Her eyes leveled into a glare and she had to force her hands to relax out of the fists they'd clenched themselves into. "If I had a switch, I'd probably turn it off." Admitting that-out loud-to him was probably one of the hardest things she'd ever said. After all her coaching with Stefan to feel again, she'd been the one that had shut down.

It had been recent, and she almost hadn't even noticed it. It could have been when Damon was driving her home after their fight or when she saw Ester and knew that all hell was going to break loose. It could have been the moment she heard the door shut behind Ric and she knew that she'd lost another person she loved. It didn't really matter when she'd turned it off, or how she'd managed to do it. She didn't want to feel angry, she didn't want to feel alone. She didn't want to cry herself to sleep anymore and wonder what path she should take. Of course, there was no switch. Not really, not even if she was a vampire. Her humanity was just as strong as Damon's. As Stefan's. As Katherine's…if one could believe that. She cared, and she hurt and she loved more than she cared to and she discovered now in this moment that pretending not to just made everything much worse.

Example Number One: Repressing her feelings for Damon had caused her to snap that night and kiss him.

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard." He finally said, staring at her almost as if he was disgusted with the idea.

"So now I'm stupid?" she fired back, shaking her head and turning away from him. "You can go to hell Damon Salvatore."

Now that, she thought with a small inward smile; that felt good. She'd wanted to tell him off for quite a while now. She was angry at him, but not because of the things he'd done, but because he'd made her fall in love with him. She'd wanted Stefan, that's all she wanted but he'd gone and messed that all up. He'd gone and messed her whole life up. Of course, he wasn't the only factor that had brought her to this place in time. Sooner or later, she would have been found. A Doppelganger does not just get to live her life happy and carefree forever. But he had made it so much more complicated. He'd torn her heart in half, he'd killed her brother. He'd taken her from her weakest point and made her stronger. Without him she would be dead, and that she hated most of all.

She needed him, and he needed her and now they were going to be stuck with each other forever.

Damon realized the same conclusion she had, but quite a while ago. The understanding was clear in her eyes now though, and he saw it; stepping forward to respond to it. The hard lines of anger in her face softened as he reached out and caressed her cheek. "Don't you understand? We belong together."

She shook her head, denying on instinct. She'd been doing it for so long it felt almost wrong to agree with him. "We can't Damon. We can't be together, we're not good for each other."

"I think we're perfect for each other." He whispered, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against his chest. "Really think about it Elena, really. We make each other better, we make each other more. I know you see that now."

As if in a trance she nodded, wondering for a moment if he was compelling her into agreeing with him. "I just…I don't think I can do this."

His heart fell for a moment, but the stubbornness that had convinced him to begin this conversation in the first place stomped it's foot and he shook his head. "That's your problem Elena. You think too much. You need to feel, I need you to feel."

"I can't." her voice shook, her eyes wide as she stared up at him.

Frustrated, he growled and fisted his fingers in her hair. "Can't, or won't?"

He didn't wait for a reply, simply crashed his lips against hers and battled his tongue between her teeth. At first she resisted, but then he backed her up against the wall as he'd done before. This time, she felt it wasn't cold from the night air. There was no cement digging into her back and no risk of interruption from Jeremy. This was a moment, their moment…could be _the _moment she finally decided to say screw it, to just let go. She was thinking so much, she barely noticed Damon's rising impatience at her lack of response to his kiss. A quick tug to the hair at the crown of her head brought her back to the present, and she let herself feel…everything. "Oh my god." She managed to gasp out before the kiss became even more heated.

His breath was hot on her face, blowing her hair back and warming her already damp skin. Her palms were sweaty where they grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and she realized she wanted to feel the smooth skin of his chest like she had the other night. Her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, feeling the smooth surface of each on her way down. She felt the strength of his body against hers as he pressed her tight between him and the wall. She felt the growl low in his throat through the kiss when she dug her nails into the hard planes of his chest and down to his belt. She felt the obvious arousal he was fighting to control, and her own body searching for friction, for release, for further pleasure. She wasn't a virgin but her body was on fire as if she was, it was desperate and she realized why perhaps she hadn't felt this much before. It was exhausting.

At once, she pushed his jacket and shirt to the floor, not letting him step back for long to admire her upper body once he'd torn her tank top from her. Then suddenly she was up in the air and her legs were tightening around his waist. Their bare skin seared together like burnt flesh, the faint sheen of sweat over their bodies making it harder to pull away gracefully. Everything was like fire, hot burning passion she'd been denying for so long. She felt it explode inside her again and again until she realized that he'd somehow managed to move them to the kitchen island and remove her yoga pants. She'd been so busy feeling the emotions behind the touches he was making that she hadn't noticed his vampire speed. He'd moved aside the front of her thong and was now trailing a finger over and inside her.

She gasped, rewarding him with faint murmurings and sighs as he brought her up the a new level of torture. She felt alright, and now she felt it all. He pulled his hand away, earning a short series of whimpers from her that he drowned out with a kiss. Whether she realized it or not at the moment, he'd brought her to orgasm twice already. All Elena could feel was the loud hum inside her body as wave after wave of pleasure worked through her. On some level, she realized what had happened, but on a more primal level she only knew that everything felt good and that she wanted more. Wanted to feel more, needed to feel more. "How are you doing?" he whispered between kisses, and she managed to hear him over the rush of blood in her ears.

"I…honestly…don't…know." She blushed deeper, her body already wonderfully flushed from the pleasure he'd just given her.

He chuckled, the vibrations running from his body to hers as he held her tightly against him. "For once, I don't mind that answer."

She wanted to slap him, but instead she opted for kissing him, hard. Her fingers found his belt and worked it open then shoved his jeans down his legs with the heels of her feet. "Make me feel more."

His eyebrow rose a few inches on his forehead, but he wasn't teasing her now. This, there would be no going back from. He wouldn't be able to let her go once they crossed this line, not even if he lived for another thousand years. Their eyes connected, and he prayed that she would be able to understand that without him having to say it, because he could not bring himself to form the words. The simple thought of her turning him away again now was too painful to even think about. She only nodded, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck and moving herself closer to the edge of the island. That was a good enough answer for him, and with a quick thrust he was inside her. She gasped, trembling almost violently in his arms as she adjusted to the new feelings that were currently attacking her recently awakened senses.

She hadn't felt any pleasure for a while, and certainly it had never been like this, but her body was desperate for it, craved it and so she adjusted quickly in hopes that it would last longer if she didn't worry about it so much. The initial shock, the fear of pain came and passed in moments and then the white hot explosion began all over again inside her and somehow she was up in the air and Damon was moving quickly through the room over to the cushy arm chair in the corner. He made a quick mental apology to Ric and pulled her close against his chest once more. His old friend would definitely kill him once he found out about this, crazy vampire spell or not- and because of that he enjoyed it all the more. Elena had the same sense of forbidden hanging over her to, but she only used it to power the moment.

"Tell me what you feel?" he asked between her lips, doing his best to keep a rhythm with her.

She closed her eyes tight, doing her best to focus on everything all at once and finding it near impossible. She felt his nails, the tips of his fingers digging into her lower back, moving her with his body as they made love. She felt the muscles in his thighs clench beneath hers as he fought for control against exploding himself. She felt the velvet, toned skin of his arms beneath her hands as her fingers wrapped around his biceps in search of something to hold on too. She felt his lips moving down her neck and across her shoulder, then back to the rise of her breasts. She felt his tongue teasing her nipple, his breath cooling her now wet skin and making her shiver. She felt the uncontrollable fire in the bottom of her belly as he hit _the _spot again and again, and then she felt the fireworks set off inside her mind as they came together.

Damon had really been hoping that she would answer him, but in waiting for her response he'd been too lost in feeling everything about her, that he'd lost control and brought her to the end before he'd meant to. The exhaustion was clear on her face and so he let go a little more, finishing with her and letting the intense feeling of finality fall over them both. She collapsed against him, her body as close to his as any two people could be. He could feel her breath on his chest, her lashes flickering as she blinked. He could feel her heart beating like mad in her chest still, feel the bloodlust that was still scratching at him; the only thing not currently sated inside him at the moment. "Incredible." She whispered a minute later and he looked down at her, a smirk on his face.

"Why thank you."

This time, she did slap him and he let her if only to let her feel the sting of passion on her palm. Then he kissed her, pressing her tighter against him. "I meant how I feel, not you."

"So I'm not incredible?" he pulled her face back to look her in the eye.

"I never said that." She grinned, leaning down for another kiss. "I have to say, the experience definitely woke me up, a part of me wonders how much more I could feel if we went slow…"

At her words, at the promise behind them his fangs slid into place and he smiled wide. "I promise I'll show you tonight."

She shook her head and ran her finger over the tip of the pearly white tooth and she wondered just how that would feel inside her. How it would feel to be bitten and drunk from during sex. Shaking the thought away for the moment, she looked around. "I can't believe that we just did that, here of all places."

He followed her gaze, and nodded a sense of guilt creeping in on him. "Elena I fear I'm going to have to ruin the mood."

She looked sharply down at him, the romance and pleasure gone from the room. "What's happened now?"

"Alaric isn't dead."

Three simple words that struck both joy and fear into her. Was feeling really the best choice after all?

_a/n: So, a kind of bittersweet ending but I hope the smut was enjoyable since that was what this was all about for me. Of course, logically speaking I don't think either Damon or Elena could even consider sex after a night like they had but then again, what better way to cope than find someone to cope with?_

_I have to say, I am glad to be back, and glad to finally be posting this. I've been home for a week or so now and I apologize for taking so long to post this, but I've just been so crazy. Requests are open and I'm sure with the season finale I will be quite the busy girl._


End file.
